


When The Waiting Ends

by TheStrangerWhoWrites



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), Awesome Gwen (Merlin), Awesome Morgana (Merlin), Bisexual Gwaine (Merlin), Bottom Merlin (Merlin), Demisexuality, Depressed Merlin (Merlin), Depression, Drinking to Cope, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Gay Merlin (Merlin), Good Mordred (Merlin), Good Morgana (Merlin), Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Jealous Arthur, M/M, Merlin is a Little Shit, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Merlin (Merlin), Past Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin), Past Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Arthur, Protective Gwaine (Merlin), Protective Merlin, Redeemed Morgana (Merlin), Reincarnation, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Worried Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 19:30:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18556321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrangerWhoWrites/pseuds/TheStrangerWhoWrites
Summary: Merlin's life is not a very happy one.Sometimes he can forget that fact through the acts of sex, or the amazing substances of the night. His favorite way to forget however is through the care of his friends. Still, they are nothing but temporary distractions. At the end of the day, in small moments of silence, his mind always goes back to the now fallen king. The man he is always waiting for.Until he no longer has to.Now that Arthur is back, it is up to Merlin to guide his best friend as he comes to terms with the sad fact of change.Along with the bittersweet taste of similarity.





	When The Waiting Ends

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the show or the song :-)

_Tell me why I'm waiting for someone that couldn't give a fuck about me_

The song slowly drifted away from the blue headphones protectively wrapped around the Warlocks ears, forcing away the ever so unwanted sounds of reality, seeping deep into his brain with an unspoken purpose to drown out any sound made by his old apathetic mind. His bone white hands began to slowly move from his sides, fumbling for his slightly battered phone, nimble fingers fervently jamming into one of the buttons on the side as if it would rid the overwhelming emptiness forever trapped inside the tired man's incomplete heart. In result, the melancholy tune grew louder, making the world around him nothing but a blur; slipping deeper into the shakey haze that the sad song provided him.

He is lost, not only to his surroundings but to his own existence. Submerging anything contrary to his self-pity in the gorgeous sounds of music, blinding himself from the joy others experienced around him. Just as they were blind to his sickening numbness. He shoved the small device back into his gray hoodie, the weight of it pulling it lower down on the scrawny man's body, exposing his overly pale skin, the bones on his neck poking through it as if it was a translucent wax. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling the cold air violate his overly sensitive flesh, pulling up his black shirt in an attempt to cover more of his neck, uncontrollably longing for a scarf to wrap around the pale distressing picture of tight skin bound deeply to an upper frame littered with scars and bite marks. Physical evidence of his always failing attempts to make the nothingness subside.

The shirt slipped back down as soon as he put it up hanging low off his unnatural body. If the warlock had enough energy, he would hate his body; he would hate the grotesque markings, the nail imprints resting on the skin of his hips, the burns that were purposely pressed into his wrist from his cigarettes, the two even cuts right over his ribcage, currently being covered by a personally depressing tattoo, one that reminded him why he had those cuts in the first place. A crest of a bloodline long destroyed, the mark of a friend who is supposed to be there for him.

He knows he should hate his body, he tries thinking about the disappointment Gauis would feel over the image of unhealthiness his being had become, trying to see the long gone look of worry that once scanned over his form. It was hard, but not impossible as he finally brought the gray face into the forefront of his self-induced fog, yet it ended up being a pointless endeavor as the only feeling he could evoke from this action was guilt. Something that sliced through the heaven like dissociation, leaving nothing for Merlin to grasp on to besides the feeling of sadness that he had tried desperately to escape.

_Tell me why I'm waiting for someone that couldn't give a fuck about me_

Once again, Merlin does his best to bury himself in the sorrowful tune, thinking back to the first time he had the bittersweet pleasure of letting the small phrase soak into his weary mind, it lingering much like the strong whiskey that met his lips once the beat began to leak through the walls with a calming muffled thump, strangely helping steady his erratic breathing with its maudlin sound. His best mate, or at least his best mate in this lifetime, Jack. Had taken him out to yet another night club, something Merlin did not object to as he could often find a somewhat chaotic peace on the dance floor, the heavy pounding of music consuming his thoughts the way he consumed liquor, matching the passion and desperation his shaky hands held as they shoved the bile into his own throat; the attention from the other men who occupied the floor made him temporarily forget the state of his fragmented heart. The sinfully sweet kisses helped him misplace his consciousness further into a beautiful oblivion, taking pleasure in the human desire that filled him, moving closer into the men who pawed and drooled over him as if he was a high lady who could raise their status above and beyond the class of a peasant, or at least that is what it reminded Merlin of.

When thinking about it in a separate situation of reminiscence, such as this, it brought up memories of when Gwen walked into the courtroom, all eyes memorized by her grace, they only saw a gorgeous figure paired with a high title, not daring to admire anything else that could possibly make up the person. 

Merlin still could not make up his mind as to whether or not he hated or loved this feeling. In one way, he was a pretty prize, no one being able to see what he tried so hard to hide when filled with the want to win. In another, he was nothing of any substance, just a quick distraction for someone to indulge themselves in only to later cast the memory away, as it would grow to be meaningless. One of the men normally ended up in the warlocks bed, where the lucky individual could make Merlin forget the king who he would prefer not to name, all night long. Until some time in the light of the next day, when all the things he tried to escape came rushing back, leaving little to no way to avoid them in his silent room. Sometimes he would count the breaths of the stranger who slept next to him or if he was feeling brave, try to slip his way into the intimate but calming warmth of the other man's arms. However, they were not often there when he woke. Just the cold air of his apartment and the empty feel of his bed.

_Tell me why I'm waiting for someone that couldn't give a fuck about me_

That night was different from most though, it officially marked fifteen thousand years, **_fifteen thousand years_ **since Merlin had lost the only thing that gave his life meaning. He thought it would be a good idea, to get piss-faced with his mate, maybe even spend his time of passion with the dark-haired man as they had casually done so before on nights filled with more desperation then normal.

Merlin would never admit it, but he liked it more than when he woke up with someone who meant nothing to him. Jack never rushed out the door to get away from him, in fact, he embraced the fact that it happened, teased him about all the different kinks he enjoyed, held him in the morning, but did not expect anything more than a friendship. It was nice, but after last summer, Jack told him that he could not do casual with him anymore. Merlin understood that; it did not make him miss it any less.

He wanted to have this lovely daze of a time but Jack was off getting blown in the back of the car he rented for this outing, the floor was overcrowded with people, and Merlin's mind was stuck on the only person he did not want to think about. So, one bottle of whiskey along with an illegal pill later. He was sitting on the bathroom floor, gripping to the empty bottle as if it were the only thing keeping him alive. His body shaking and sweating as he first heard the line that now forever sits in his head.

_Tell me why I'm waiting for someone that couldn't give a fuck about me_

He cried. For the first time in years, usually, he saved all his tears until the end of another lifetime. After all of his newer friends had left the world, he would shut himself in his small apartment meant, turn off the aging spell that had been mastered over time so he could give off the illusion that he aged and bawl. Until his eyes were bloodshot, until he could no longer force water to leak away from his drained expression. That's when he would think of him. That is when he would cry.

Men plain, whatever sadistic sort of God that would force Merlin to live out this hell of an existence laughs. Merlin broke his normal pattern of life, coming undone on the disgusting bathroom floor. The king he kept waiting for, was never coming back, was he? No one he once loved was ever coming back, eventually, he would lose those he loved now, and there was no way out no relief he was stuck like this, waiting for a fallen king who loved him, but a lot less then Merlin did him.

This revaluation caused him to take another pill, then another, until he was practically floating away from the world he grew so cold too. He remembered when he once felt the world to be new, there were once days he cherished being alive, that all felt like a distant drug filled dream now. A ridiculous fantasy one could not afford to hope for. He smashed the bottle on the tiles of the floor until all that reminded was a jagged edge, running it along his pale skin, right over his ribs, ruining the alluring gothic shirt he had strategically put on merely hours ago.

_Tell me why I'm waiting for someone that couldn't give a fuck about me_

That had been a year ago, a little over in fact. Jack ended up finding him, rushing his best friend to the hospital as fast as one could, being praised as a hero, the doctors claiming if he had found the skinny man any later he would not have made it.

But Merlin knew that wasn't true.

He could have never found Merlin at all, and he would still be alive to mope about it. He would always be alive. Destiny did not seem to want to change that.

Merlin sat by the water, pulling out one of the many cigarettes that rested inside of his dark hoodie. Thinking about all of the things that had changed in his life over the past year. He had more friends outside of Jack, starting with his therapist Kathrine. She was an extremely fun person in Merlin's opinion. She took no bullshit from anyone, she knew how to kill a man with her bare hands, she had magic, like Merlin- She reminded him of the person Morgana once was. Perhaps the person he wanted Morgana to be. Then there was Gabby. One of the kindest people he had ever met. Rivaling Gwen in her caring nature. She ran the coffee shop that he and Jack would visit on the way to work. If you asked Merlin, he would have said it was a nice way to start off his day. His best mate playfully flirting with the girl who brightened up the room with her smile. Throwing around plans to go out together with Kathrine and, Charlie, the timid Goth bar tender Merlin had grown rather fond of. He was the youngest of the group, only nineteen. Doing his best to make enough money to get through college so he could be a child psychologist. He looked up to Merlin, Jack claimed he even fancied him. He was a lot like Mordred, a fact that Merlin did not know how to feel about.

He tried dating, Dan being his latest victim. It was a hard thing for the warlock to do in general. For even back in the times of Camelot, he could not seem to stick with the same person Merlin knew why as well. Every nice moment he had, every light-hearted feeling, never compared to what he felt for a long gone blonde. It was not fair, to them or to Merlin. He did not want to live for him anymore. Did not want to love him. Did not want to miss him. He wanted to forget him. It did not matter though, because of no matter how much he wanted to move on. It was not his choice. It never was, to begin with.

Yet, when he looked out into the water. He did not feel the ache of loss. He did not feel much of anything. Only enjoying the beauty of the lake.

Maybe, after all this time. He had finally gotten over what had happened. That through his new friends and their care. He could finally live for himself instead of waiting for someone-

The water began to bubble in a strange way, pulling Merlin away from everything, his music, his thoughts, clearing his mind as a blonde man, clutching an old sword flopped on to the shore of the lake with all the grace of a dying fish and Merlin rushed over to the gasping person. Legs moving on autopilot as he ripped off his headphones and hoodie, cigarette falling into the water as he rushed to his side, blinking fast as if he would disappear, revealing to be nothing more than a hallucination Merlin would need to discuss with his therapist. He was still there when he opened his eyes, he could feel his cold skin when he helped pull him out of the lake. Tears spilling away from his eyes as he held the person he loved the most in his arms.

_Tell me why I'm waiting for someone_

"Arthur-"

_That couldn't give a fuck about me_

"Merlin."

_No no you wouldn't_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction for this fandom. It is based off a roleplay I did. I hope you enjoy it, more to come soon.


End file.
